Let Slip the Dogs of War
by Balizabeth
Summary: Harry faces a world of danger with Voldemort's rebirth in his fifth year. He learns about the Istari, and discovers something about his past. Finally updated!
1. Meetings and Arrivals

Let Slip the Dogs of War  
  
(A sequel to "The Wisdom to Know the Difference")  
  
  
by Balizabeth  
  
  
Disclaimer- I am making no profit whatsoever from this fic, and I own none of the characters. I have borrowed the term "Istari" from the infamous J.R.R Tolkein, but that's about it. Suing me is a waste of your money and my time. Besides, you'll not get a cent out of me! I work at a daycare! I'm poor!   
  
  
  
"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,  
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice  
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;  
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth  
With carrion men, groaning for burial."  
  
-William Shakespeare,  
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar  
Act III, scene i  
  
  
  
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And here we are- the long awaited (or so I like to think) sequel to "The Wisdom to Know the Difference". I would like to tell everyone now that this fic will be longer and there will be a much larger amount of time between posts. School starts for me in a matter of days, and I have a killer schedule this year. For reasons I can't figure out yet, I decided to take two college courses, although this is only my junior year in High School. If I survive school and work, it will be a year to remember!  
  
But enough about me, I know what you want! Let's see how our favorite hero and his amis are doing, hmmmm?  
  
Well, then, hold on, because here we go!  
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As Harry burst through the magical barrier and onto Platform 4 and 3/4, the first thing that hit him was the *noise*. Students were yelling and setting of fireworks in a burst of end-of-the-summer spirits, parents were calling to their children, making sure they didn't forget their dress robes and their potions ingredients. Friends who had not seen each other since school let out greeted each other joyfully. And, above it all, the huge, magnificent Hogwarts Express was puffing out steam as the whistle blew, shrieking over the madness. Although there was a seemingly exuberant appearance to the crowd, Harry could sense the underlying fear, worry and tension in each and every person in the group. By now, word of the attacks had spread to nearly every wizarding family, and whether they believed it or not, they were still afraid. Attacks and Dark Marks were nothing to be taken lightly, especially in light of Voldemort's rebirth, as announced by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.  
  
For a moment, Harry was struck dumb by this attack on his hearing. He didn't even notice the fear and doubt that was still deep inside him. Before he could adjust himself to the chaotic surroundings, Ron pulled his arm, and cried excitedly,  
  
"There's Hermione! Do you see her, Harry?" Sure enough, there was Hermione, standing on her tiptoes and waving her arms frantically to make herself noticed through the crowd.  
  
"Harry! Ron! Over here, come on, I've already found us some seats. Hurry up, the train is about to leave!" This sounded very much like the Hermione Harry knew, and it was a nice reminder to him that some things always stayed the same. Ron and Harry, who had already said their good-byes to a tearful Mrs. Weasley at the barrier, pushed their way through the crowd until they reached their friend. Hermione beamed at them both, and then said to Ron,  
  
"Ron, why don't you go put your trunk and Harry's away, and meet us inside the compartment?" This was followed by a meaningful look, which Ron correctly interpreted that Hermione wanted time to speak to Harry alone.  
  
Ron nodded, pretending to be annoyed at having Hermione boss him around.  
  
"Be back in a few, then," he said, and sauntered off, calling Dean and Seamus over to help him with the heavy trunks.  
  
As soon as he was out of earshot, Hermione engulfed Harry in an oxygen-depriving embrace. Before she pulled away, she whispered in his ear,  
  
"Ron told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Harry. You know if you ever need to talk, or anything, you can come to me, right?" Harry nodded, trying to give Hermione a carefree smile and not quite pulling it off. He was glad that Hermione didn't seem to be mad that Ron was the one to tell her about the Third Task, and glad that she knew just how to respond. The last thing Harry wanted was half-hearted inquires into his health and mental state. He knew that what had happened to him hurt and scared Hermione more than she was letting on, but she was trying to hold back so to not worry him.  
  
Hermione took a step back and looked at Harry. She watched him for a moment before saying,  
  
"How are you, Harry? How are you, really?" Harry paused for a moment, weighing his answer carefully. He looked at Hermione and said,  
  
"I think I'm doing better. Talking to Ron and Sirius helped. That and having friends like you." Harry stopped. He had always been uncomfortable talking about himself, and it took a lot for him to admit that he was not "fine" or "okay". The Dursley's had taught him to hide his emotions behind a wall, and having to talk about the Tournament was slowly chipping away at that wall; weakening it. The thing was, he was so used to having no one really care about him for so long, having people suddenly worry about him was, well, freaking him out. It was hard to go from a "worthless boy", as his Uncle so dotingly referred to him, to The Boy Who Lived, a hero and celebrity. It was even harder for him to accept that there were people who liked him, who loved him, and there were people wanted him to be okay.  
  
Harry tried to veer the subject off of him, and said,  
  
"So, how was your summer? Catch up on enough reading?" He had a feeling from the look in Hermione's eye that she knew what he was doing and why, but she would go along with it. She answered earnestly,  
  
"Yes, I've learned so many things over the holiday. I tried to finish all of my homework early so I would have time to get started on a few extra things. I've just started this great book, it's called "Ancient Magic: the Powerful Istar-" Here Hermione was cut off as Ron came into the compartment saying good-naturedly,   
  
"All right, Hermione, I've put the bloody trunks away, now how about a nice 'hello'?"  
  
She spun around, and gave Ron a huge hug, saying,  
  
"Oh, Ron! It's so good to see you! I do wish we could have gotten together over the summer, but you know, I've been so busy with summer work, and I did a little extra reading so I would be ready for all the classes- but, anyway, it's wonderful to see you!" Hermione gushed this all out in one breath and was gasping for air at the end.  
  
Ron grinned at her, then held her at arms length, saying,  
  
"You look great, Hermione. It's smashing to see you again." Indeed, Hermione did look great, at least to Ron. Her hair was somewhat tamed from its usual bushy status, and her face was flushed with excitement, giving her a glowing look.  
  
There was a slightly awkward silence as the three friends got themselves comfortable on the seats. None of them wanted to talk about the thing that was clearly on their minds: the recent Death Eater attacks. All of them knew, deep down, that these were just the first of many, yet they still did not want to accept it. Perhaps they had decided, in some sort of unspoken agreement, that they would not say anything until Dumbledore had told them about it.  
  
As the train moved towards Hogwarts, the swaying slightly with the movement, Harry's thoughts drifted towards the attack. Why had he not dreamed of it? His dreams usually told him of these things, although he was glad to be spared of a nightmare as gruesome as those attacks must have been. Perhaps, he thought suddenly, it was because *Death Eaters* were the ones who committed the crime, and not Voldemort himself. If Voldemort had done nothing, then he probably wouldn't have dreamed of it...  
  
The train crept to a halt. They had reached Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione looked up to, it was clear that they had been lost in thoughts similar to Harry's. The carriage ride to the castle was short and quiet. As they all clambered out of the compartment, the saw Hagrid standing with a group of frightened first years around him. As he spotted the trio, he pulled himself away to go and greet them.  
  
"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" He boomed, taking long strides towards them, "How yeh bin? I've been thinking a lot about yeh, that's for sure." Hagrid directed his attention to Harry and said, "How are yeh, Harry? Doing better, I hope?"  
  
Harry looked up at the gigantic man, and said, with a bit more confidence than he had when he had answered Hermione's similar question,  
  
"Better. I'm doing better, Hagrid." Hagrid started at him for a moment, then said,  
  
"Yes, I believe you are. Now, I've got to take care o'these first years. See you at the Feast!"   
  
After Hagrid left, Harry stared up at the castle looming before him. Apart from the Burrow, never had a building seemed to welcoming. 'If I can't be at the Burrow,' Harry thought as he, Ron, and Hermione approached the school, 'I might as well be at my other home.'  
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Whew! So, how was it? I dropped some clues in there about future plot developments...they aren't too hard to find. This story will definitely be longer than "Wisdom", as shown by this chapter. I am not sure how well I will manage something like this, so bear with me. This chapter seemed a bit slow, but I wanted to keep with the theme of Harry still not being over the Tournament. This chapter was more like a tie-together for "Wisdom" and this fic. Also, if I got the part from the play wrong in the beginning, I am sorry. I had to do it from memory, so if there is a mistake(s), please tell me!   
  
I got this chapter out much sooner than I had planned, but don't expect the other to come out this fast. Maybe one more between now and next Sunday. Hopefully.  
  
My thank-yous are left-overs from "Wisdom"-  
  
WhetherRose- *sigh* what would I do without you? Thanks for all you postive reviews for "Wisdom". They really helped me get motivated for writing the next chapters. Thanks also for you criticism- I can be hopelessly redundant at times. It's one of the many things I am trying to work out. Hope you enjoy this fic as much as the last!  
  
Stonehenge- thanks! I'm glad you enjoy the fic.  
  
Goldenfire- I do try to moderate my descriptiveness. Tell me if I am over or under doing it. I felt like Harry's recovery was a bit rushed to, but I was so anxious to get to my new story! I guess that makes me a not so good author...sorry!  
  
Gryffindorgurl957- thanks for the review and compliments! I am rather partial to angst, too.  
  
Catalina Rose- glad you enjoyed the quotes. I have a passion for quotes! Thanks for taking the time to review!  
  
VyingQuill- thank you for the criticism. *sighs* I have a horrible problem with switching tenses. One of the many things I am trying to work on. Thank you for being honest!  
  
  
  
Well, everyone, that is that. Please, review! I got forty reviews for "Wisdom", let's try to beat the record! Thank you all for reading my work!  
  
Cheers!  
Balizabeth 


	2. Speeches and Threats

Let Slip the Dogs of War  
  
(A sequel to "The Wisdom to Know the Difference")  
  
  
by Balizabeth  
  
  
Disclaimer- I am making no profit whatsoever from this fic, and I own none of the characters. I have borrowed the term "Istari" from the infamous J.R.R Tolkein, but that's about it. Suing me is a waste of your money and my time. Besides, you'll not get a cent out of me! I work at a daycare! I'm poor!   
  
  
  
"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,  
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice  
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;  
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth  
With carrion men, groaning for burial."  
  
-William Shakespeare,  
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar  
Act III, scene i  
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Harry and his friends all streamed into the Great Hall, and headed for the Gryffindor table. The Hall was almost full already, and Harry did not fail to notice the prolonged glances in his direction, nor the hushed voices that followed his as he walked past groups of other students. Harry tightened his jaw, and, resolving to ignore it strode forward with Ron and Hermione as they sat down with their fellow Gryffindors.  
  
As he sat down, there were friendly calls of,  
  
"Hey Harry! How was your break?"  
  
"Enjoy your summer?"  
  
"Hope you're ready for Quidditch- the Cup is ours for sure!"  
  
'At least the people in my House are treating me normally,' Harry thought as he waited with the others for Professor McGonagall to lead the first year students into the Hall. He was relieved that some of the students were treating him normally. 'Although,' he thought bitterly, 'I doubt I can expect the same from the Slytherins.' But, in all fairness, the Slytherins had never treated Harry with respect, so he would not be missing out on much.  
  
A sudden flurry of movement announced the arrival of the first years, ready to be Sorted. Professor McGonagall walked up and placed the infamous Sorting Hat on the table. Harry soon became distracted by his hunger, and therefore was not listening as the rip near the brim of the hat opened and the hat started to sing. Harry glanced over at Ron, and he could tell by the gloomy way Ron was staring at his empty plate that his friend was not paying attention to the song, either.  
  
As the Hat finished with a few high-pitched, warbling, notes, there was some polite applause, and the Sorting Ceremony officially started. As McGonagall called out names, Harry inspected the new group of students. They all looked frightened, as he remembered being. Although perhaps some of that had to do with dark things that had been happening lately...  
  
With great effort, Harry turned his mind away from these thoughts. 'One night,' he told himself, 'you deserve at least one night of not thinking about Voldemort or Death Eaters. Just enjoy it while it lasts.' Harry turned his attention back to the Sorting as "Gamble, Abigail" became a new Gryffindor. He was applauding when suddenly he realized something. There seemed to be fewer first years that any of the other years that he could remember. He leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear,  
  
"D'you notice that there aren't a lot of first years? Why do you think that is?" Hermione glanced at him, then whispered back,  
  
"I was just thinking the same thing. Perhaps," here she swallowed nervously, as if she didn't want to mention something, "it's because of...well, you know...the attacks. Maybe parents are afraid to send their children here. Or maybe it's something as simple as a population difference. Maybe there just aren't as many twelve year-olds. I don't know-" Hermione was cut off as the Ceremony ended and Albus Dumbledore stood up to make his welcoming speech.  
  
Professor Dumbledore was dressed for the occasion in dark blue robes. He looked a bit more haggard, a bit more weary than usual, but only people like Harry who knew the Headmaster fairly well could see it. As usual, there was a benevolent twinkle in his eyes as he surveyed his new students, but it seemed a bit duller, a bit more hidden behind his many worries than it had in years past. Nevertheless, he did look happy to see his students returning for another year. He smiled down at them and said,  
  
"Welcome back to Hogwarts. I trust that you all enjoyed your holiday, and are now ready for serious studies and work." Here there were several good-natured groans from the students, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled down at them. "Hmm, perhaps not. However, school has started once again, and we must go over certain things." Everyone in the audience shifted uncomfortably at his words and grave tone, for they knew that he would most likely address the current state of affairs in the wizarding world. "As I am sure you all know, there were several attacks on wizarding families a week ago, and the Dark Mark was left over the scenes. I am sure you remember my parting speech last year, and these current events only prove what we already knew: Voldemort has indeed risen, and seems bent on regaining the power he had before his defeat." There were several murmurs of protest and disbelief, but Dumbledore held up one hand, and said, "This may be hard to accept, but we must. Knowing that there is danger is the first step in protecting yourself against it. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe while you are at Hogwarts, as will all of the other teachers. In return, I ask several things, and for your safety, you *must* obey them. Number one, all students will stay on the castle grounds, and avoid going outside the castle at all costs. Travel outside only for classes, not for social visits. Number two, Quidditch will be postponed until further notice." There were many angry voices and shouts, but the Headmaster ignored them and continued, "I hope that we will be able to renew our Quidditch season as soon as the proper charms and wards are in place around the field. It is for your safety that we are doing this. The last thing that I ask of you is to try and carry on as normal. This will be difficult, especially with the changes, but we will not let Voldemort have the pleasure of knowing that we are living in fear. That is what he wants most." Dumbledore looked at them sharply, then said, "We have lost one student to the Dark Lord. I will not let him take another."  
  
The words weighed heavily on the students, particularly those who were sitting at the Hufflepuff table. The death of Cedric Diggory still stung in many hearts.  
  
"But now," the Headmaster continued, "let us get started on our feast, for classes start tomorrow and we want to be well-fed and rested!" He clapped his hands, and food filled the tables as the students began talking amongst themselves, the words of their headmaster still in the backs of their heads.  
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After they had eaten their fill, the young witches and wizards filed out of the Great Hall, led by the prefects. The Head Boy and Girl were at the front of the crowd; two students from Ravenclaw whom Harry did not recognize. As he was searching for Ron and Hermione, who had somehow gotten lost behind him, he heard a voice from several feet away.  
  
"Don't know what Dumbledore's thinking, really. There's not much he can do- The Dark Lord is back, and nothing will stand in his way. He'll take care of the fool, and all the other mudbloods and muggle-lovers. And Potter, of course." Harry knew whom that voice belonged to. Malfoy. He was standing surround by all of his mindless Slytherin cronies. He was also projecting his voice to be sure Harry could hear him. Harry felt a cold anger wash over him. Malfoy wanted to get a reaction from him? Fine. Ron wasn't here this time to fight Malfoy for him, and Harry was glad. Gone were the days when he would ignore Malfoy's taunts, his slander. The anger, the rage inside Harry built up as he started towards Malfoy. He didn't notice Ron and Hermione calling him, he didn't notice Ron running up to him, and putting a hand on the sleeve of his robes. He barely heard Ron when he said gruffly,  
  
"Harry, come on, we'll deal with him later. There are tons of people about, you'll get in trouble. Let's just go-" Annoyed, Harry lifted up one hand to interrupt Ron, but he didn't get the chance. Ron was thrown backward by some invisible force. He hit the ground on his backside harmlessly, but looked very stunned. 'How did that happen?' he wondered. 'Harry didn't even touch me...'  
  
By now Harry had reached Malfoy, who was observing him with a self-satisfied sneer. He hadn't seen what happened to Ron.  
  
"What is it, Potter? Did I say something to offend you? I was only telling the truth. Your mudblood friend Granger really doesn't have much time left."  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed, as the anger inside him boiled. He could feel it growing, getting bigger inside of him. He felt like he would explode if it didn't stop, it was growing and growing...  
  
"No, Potter, I don't think I will. You see, I am just trying to help you accept that-" Malfoy never finished the sentence. Harry raised on hand as if to push him but that hand never connected with Malfoy's body. When Harry's hand was in mid-air, Malfoy went flying backward with a strength that made everyone gasp. It was as if an invisible rope was viciously pulling him with and incredible speed until-thud! - Malfoy smacked into the wall and slumped down, unconscious.   
  
Harry put his hand down, horror-struck. He was breathing heavily, and he suddenly felt weak, drained. There was no more anger inside of him, only emptiness. The rage that had threatened to consume him only moments before was gone, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.  
  
Harry looked up at the faces that were staring in disbelief. His mind was reeling. 'What happened?' he thought, 'Malfoy- how did I do that? I moved my hand, and he just flew and-Oh my God! Ron-' Harry turned around, and saw Hermione staring in shock, one hand over her mouth. Ron had gotten to his feet and was just behind her, his face pale, his eyes wide. Harry dashed over, put on arm on Ron's shoulder.  
  
"Oh, Merlin, Ron, are you all right? I swear, I don't know what happened, I didn't mean to, I swear, I swear-" He was getting hysterical and he knew it. He needed to calm down. He took a few deep, shaky breaths. Ron managed to say,  
  
"I know Harry- let's just go, come on, let's go to the common room," He looked over at everyone else, "Go on! Go to your Houses, go on!" Two prefects belatedly rushed forward, and demanded to know what had happened. Of course they had seen it, but refused to believe their eyes. One of them spoke up,  
  
"Thirty points from Gryffindor for fighting, Potter. I'm going to have to tell the Headmaster about this-" Harry nodded numbly. He was still in shock. Maybe Dumbledore would be able to explain this. "The rest of you, just leave! Go to your common rooms, there is nothing more to see here! Someone take Malfoy up to the infirmary, and ten points from Slytherin for provoking the fight."  
  
Reluctantly, the crowd dispersed, and everyone headed back to their respective Houses. Hermione, sensing that Harry was still in shock, put her hand on his arm and helped him up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, with Ron on Harry's other side. When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione said,  
  
"Sindarin!" And the painting swung forward, permitting them inside. Harry briefly wondered how Hermione knew the password, then realized that she was now a prefect. Not that it was any surprise. It was probably shock that had kept her from taking action at the fight earlier.  
  
The common room was buzzing with the news of what had just happened. As soon as the trio stepped through the portrait hole, however, there was silence. A few of the younger students chanced timid glances Harry's way, and then looked away uncomfortably. The first years looked downright terrified.  
  
'Not that I can blame them,' Harry thought wryly. First, the attacks, the new, enchanting school and then the 'famous' Harry Potter attacks a student without laying his hands on him. What a jolly school year they're in for.' At this moment, the twelve-something people in the common room decided that they would be better off in their dormitories, and walked up the stairs. Ron, Harry and Hermione were left alone in front of the giant fireplace. Harry still felt utterly exhausted, and he began to shake slightly. He quickly dropped onto one of the armchairs until he collapsed. His sudden movement jarred Hermione into speech,  
  
"Harry! Are you all right? What- what just happened in there?" She sounded mostly worried, and a little scared. Harry had just knocked Malfoy out with a wave of his hand. He now looked ver shaky and tired, almost as if the attack had drained him of all his energy. Ron added,  
  
"That was incredible, Harry! Have you ever done that before?" Harry shook his head slowly, looking up at them.  
  
"Never," he said hoarsely. I don't know where that came from. I was just so mad, and I went to push and he just went flying- I swear, I didn't mean for that to happen. I don't even know *why* it happened. It scared me. And Ron- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. You're all right, aren't you?" Harry looked anxiously at his friend. Whatever had happened to him had made him hurt Ron. Whatever it was, it couldn't be a good thing.  
  
"Forget it, Harry, I'm fine," Ron said, brushing it off, "I know you didn't mean it. I wasn't even hurt, so don't worry. I do want to know what's going on with you, though."  
  
Hermione broke in briskly, her tone and manner all business,  
  
"So do I Ron, but I think what Harry needs now, what we all need now is some sleep. I'm sure Dumbledore will want to talk to Harry tomorrow, and he will know what's going on. We have classes tomorrow, so we might as well try to get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." She turned around and headed up the stairs to her dormitory; the boys to theirs.  
  
When Ron and Harry walked into their room, Dean, Neville, and Seamus looked up from where they were talking. Harry could tell from their faces that, thankfully, they would not say anything about his encounter with Malfoy. Instead, Seamus said,  
  
"What about the whole Quidditch thing, eh? Think we'll be able to play soon?" Quidditch! With the whole excitement of the evening, Harry had nearly forgotten. He cast the thought out of his mind. The first thing he wanted to know was what was going on with him. Then, he could worry about Quidditch. He sincerely hoped that they would be able to continue the season. Quidditch was one of the few things that helped him be distracted from everything. Belatedly, he realized that Seamus was waiting for some kind of response.  
  
"I'm sure we'll be able to play sooner or later. I wouldn't worry," he comforted his disappointed friend. The boys all nodded looking somewhat relieved. Dean grinned, saying,  
  
"All right, then. Goodnight, everyone." All the boys changed and climbed into their beds. As Harry stretched out under the luxurious comforter, he thought about everything that had happened in the past week.  
  
It wasn't until a full hour later, his mind still lost in thoughts of Dark Lords and strange powers, that there was something different about the atmosphere in the room. There was no heavy, deep breathing, or rustling of sheets.  
  
It was then that he realized that each and every boy in the room was lying, as he was, wide-awake, lost in their thoughts, and praying for sleep to come.  
  
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Well! Aren't you all lucky ducks! I typed the first two chapters at once, so you get two chapters posted in two days! Enjoy it, folks. I think this is the longest chapter I have ever done...  
  
Anyway, the plot thickens! What are these strange powers? Next chapter Harry will meet with Dumbledore, write to Sirius, and start his classes. Fun, fun, fun!  
  
I thought that Dumbledore's speech here was a bit unbelievable, but he is a very hard character to write. So wise and mysterious...and I just couldn't bring myself to do a Sorting Hat song! I know, I know, my excuse of Harry being distracted was lame, but I am not very creative. I also apologize for the Quidditch, but it will come back later in the story. Harry needs his Quidditch, it's part of who he is!  
This fic is a lot harder to write than "Wisdom". There are so many little things about the plot that I have to work in now that they are at school but in "Wisdom" it was summer vacation and much easier. I cannot tell you how much revision this chapter has gone through, and I bet there are still so many holes...ack...I'm sorry! I wanted this chapter to be an introductory to what will be happening for the rest of the story, but I think it came out as just being boring...a lot of talk, not much action or anything exciting. It's so hard to make it seem realistic yet not-boring at the same time. I keep having this sinking feeling I am failing miserably. Sorry, all you nice readers and reviewers *Balizabeth pouts*...  
  
Here's a hint for the future- we will find out a lot more about Malfoy and what makes him tick. It's gonna get wild, folks, so hold on to your seats!  
  
Thanks to my reviewers-  
  
Giesbrecht- yay! A kindred Tolkein spirit! It will be explained later why Harry didn't dream of the attacks, it's not a very complex answer at all, but there will be one. I am trying very hard to keep Hermione real. I just feel like I don't know her as well as Ron and Harry. Thank you for reviewing, and for your encouragement!  
  
Moonlight- I am getting this out pretty fast, but remember- it was previously typed a few days ago! I am spoiling you guys! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Stonehenge- thank you! I don't know what else to say...  
  
WhetherRose- hahaha, what are we thinking, dumping all of this hard work on ourselves? We must enjoy stress or something...Thank you so much for your continuous reviewing and your compliments- you always keep me motivated!  
  
Jagged Edge- I hope I beat my record, too! But don't worry, I won't be withholding the story if I don't get my way...thanks for reviewing!  
  
Scribe- glad you enjoyed the last one! I hope you like this one as much!  
  
CatalinaRose- yup, there may be some Hr/R in here if I can manage it, but it definitely won't be a major part. Thanks!  
  
Now, wouldn't you like a nice note from the author? If so, review, and I will post a cute little message just for you, like all of these other wonderful people...*Balizabeth smiles sweetly...or what she thinks is sweetly.... she isn't very good at coaxing people...* Anyway, press that little button and help me out! Thanks for reading, and hopefully reviewing! 


	3. Explanations and Denials

Let Slip the Dogs of War  
  
(A sequel to "The Wisdom to Know the Difference")  
  
  
by Balizabeth  
  
  
Disclaimer- I am making no profit whatsoever from this fic, and I own none of the characters. I have borrowed the term "Istari" from the infamous J.R.R Tolkein, but that's about it. Suing me is a waste of your money and my time. Besides, you'll not get a cent out of me! I work at a daycare! I'm poor!   
  
  
  
"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,  
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice  
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;  
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth  
With carrion men, groaning for burial."  
  
-William Shakespeare,  
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar  
Act III, scene I  
  
  
See if you can spot the little quote/line that I have in here- it's from the book Dune, by Frank Herbert.  
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Albus Dumbledore's office was a sight to behold. One of the reasons that he didn't usually have students come up here was that they were so often distracted by the mysterious and beautiful objects that surrounded them. There were shelves stuffed with books and potions, as well as a number of unidentifiable magical artifacts. When someone stepped inside, they didn't know where to rest their eyes. Things glittered and twinkled, some shone, some talked. One of the most prominent displays was a huge sword with rubies on the hilt. It read, 'Godric Gryffindor'. Only a few people knew how that sword came to be in the Headmaster's office.  
  
Out of everything in that formidable room, the one that always seemed to grab the most attention was a bird. A phoenix, to be precise. His name was Fawkes, and he had the most beautiful, radiant feathers to be found on the earth. He seemed to sparkle as if there were diamonds nestled among his wings, and his eyes were bright and deep. He stared at you as if he knew exactly what you were talking about, and he understood what you meant. And at the moment, he was looking right at Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.   
  
The Headmaster looked back into those onyx eyes and sighed. Wearily, he reached a hand up to massage his temple. He had just gotten back from the feast, and was exhausted. His summer holiday had been filled with secret preparations and meetings and plans, getting ready as best he could for Voldemort's inevitable first attack. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it, no matter how long he and his comrades worked at it, it would come. They were so few, there was only so much they could do as long as they Ministry and their blindness restrained them.   
  
'Fudge may destroy us yet,' he thought bitterly, 'He will deny and hide until the last moment when it is all too late. His naivete magnifies whatever damage Voldemort and his minions manage to do.' For, despite Dumbledore's best efforts, he was still unable to convince Fudge of the Dark Lord's rebirth. Throughout the summer, he had been silently gathering allies, making alliances and drawing together forces. He had sent Hagrid on a successful voyage to the Giants, and he could now count them on their side. The hour of war was drawing near, but Dumbledore still had hope that Fudge may reconcile himself. It was a vain hope, perhaps, but a hope. 'And where are we if we do not have our hopes? Then we are truly lost.' Dumbledore learned long ago that a man that had no hopes could not survive.  
  
Snape had been taken back into the Death Eater fold, after some convincing. Albus had a feeling that Severus had left out a great deal of what this 'convincing" was. Snape did not have the trust he once had, as it had been reported to Voldemort that he had been spying for Dumbledore all those years ago. Voldemort was still suspicious, but he had taken Snape back, which worried Albus a little. It was value beyond measure to have a spy in the Death Eater ranks, but Severus had been taken back a little *too* easy. Voldemort was not known for his forgiveness, yet he had taken Snape back with comparatively little punishment.   
  
'Voldemort is plotting, too' Albus whispered to himself, and to Fawkes, 'He has tricks. He has tricks within tricks within tricks. Plans within plans within plans...' Dumbledore was interrupted by his musings by a sharp rap on his door. Startled, he looked up. No one usually came by his office at this time, unless there was trouble.  
  
"Come in," he called out, while he reached for his wand. One could never be too careful...  
  
In strode Severus Snape, his black robes billowing behind him. His face was a stark white compared to the dark robes, and his eyes sparkled with a look Albus knew all too well...  
  
"Harry," the weary Headmaster said, pulling his hand away from his wand. He knew from Snape's face that he had come here to talk about the young Mr. Potter. "What has happened now? Do sit down, Severus, I have a feeling this discussion may last a while."  
  
"It has come to my attention," Snape said as he lowered himself onto a chair, "That Potter has once again gotten himself into trouble. It seems that he attacked Mr. Malfoy, sending him flying against a wall."   
Albus sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but the Potions Master cut him off, saying,  
  
"That is not all. I was informed, by a prefect, that Potter managed to do this without his wand, without even *touching* Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy is currently unconscious in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey has cured his concussion and bruised back, but she thought it best to let him sleep through the night." Snape leaned forward, and said, "I have said it before, and I will say it again- Potter is dangerous, and a no-good troublemaker. Normally, an action such as this would call for suspension, perhaps even expulsion." At the word 'normally', Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. Surely *Snape* was not taking Harry's side in this... before he had a chance to voice these questions, Severus continued, "I say 'normally' not because I believe Potter, or think he deserves another chance. The boy is on his tenth at least. I say it because Potter managed to knock out Malfoy without even touching him. Without using his wand. He did *wandless* magic, Albus. Surely you know what this means. If we do not take the proper steps in this matter Potter will be sure to create more havoc- and I will *not* be so lenient with him again."  
  
Severus looked intently into the Headmaster's eyes. Surely he had to know what this meant...Potter did wandless magic...a thing like this at such a young age hadn't happened for centuries...the prophecy was coming true... As he stared at Albus, Snape realized that he *did* know what it meant.  
  
"I see," Albus said, rather hoarsely. "I am aware of what this means, and I will approach Mr. Potter about it. I thank you, Severus, for bringing this to my attention." Dumbledore stood up and walked Snape to the door. "Would you mind asking Minerva to send Harry up to my office? Immediately, please." Snape gave a curt nod and walked out the door. Dumbledore could hear his shoes clicking on the stone steps as he went to fetch Professor McGonagall.  
  
The Headmaster paced his office. He felt as if a great burden had just been laid on his soldiers. He had hoped that this day would not come for a few more years...this, on top of everything that had been happening. But he had known that it was inevitable. The moment of truth had come, when past mysteries would be revealed and ancient prophecies, long forgotten, would be brought to light. Albus abruptly shook his head, and turned around. Sleeping in his chamber was a certain dog that would need to be informed of these new developments.  
*****************************  
  
Although Sirius Black lay with his eyes closed on the floor of Albus Dumbledore's chamber, he was not asleep. He had arrived at the castle only a day prior, and Harry did not yet know that he was here. Albus had felt that the fewer people that knew, the easier his traveling and arrival would be. Only after repeated promises that Sirius would get to see and talk with Harry later had convinced Sirius to not inform his godson of his arrival.   
  
He was curled up in his dog form, listening intently for approaching footsteps. Albus had said that he would join him later so they could discuss the attacks, the gathering of the 'old crowd', and more importantly, Harry. Although they had exchanged a few owls before school started, Sirius had not seen him since that emotional day at Arabella Figg's house, and he was anxious to hear how he was doing. The first day back, a full immersion into the wizarding world must have been stressful for him. Before the Sorting, he had bombarded Albus with instructions, telling him to pay attention to Harry, to makes sure he was looking well, see if he ate enough food at the feast, note if anyone taunted or harassed him. And, if they did so, make sure they were punished, and then to give their names to him so he could deal with them himself. Although Albus had not agreed to every single one of his demands, he had promised to keep an eye on Harry, and he would speak to Sirius later in the evening and inform him of all the night's happenings.  
  
At the sound of someone approaching, Sirius perked his ears and sat up alertly. He tensed himself to spring in case it was anyone besides the Headmaster outside of that door. The door opened, and Albus walked in, looking much more haggard than he had a few hours prior. Dumbledore glanced down at Sirius and said briskly,  
  
"You may transform now, Sirius, and please join me in my office. There is a matter of dire importance that we need to discuss. Young Harry shall be joining us shortly."  
  
With a soft pop, Sirius transformed and Followed Albus as he briskly led the way into his office. Sirius' mind was reeling. What had happened? Why was Harry joining them? Oh, no...something had happened to Harry. What was it? He had to find out.   
  
As they reached the luxurious office, Sirius reached out and gripped the Headmaster's shoulder.  
  
"Albus," he said hoarsely, "what has happened? What is wrong with Harry? Why is he coming up here?" If Harry was hurt, Sirius didn't think he would be able to take it. No one should dare to hurt Harry while he was here...Sirius began to eye Dumbledore's office for breakable objects in case his temper escaped him, as it so often did. 'Not again," Sirius thought to himself mournfully, 'we can't go through this again...'  
  
Dumbledore sighed audibly and his shoulders drooped almost imperceptibly. Sirius felt an unnamed panic sweep through him. If Albus was this upset, this worried...Sirius almost didn't want to know what had happened. Dumbledore turned around, and looked at Sirius. He motioned for Sirius to sit down as he took his place behind his desk. He paused for a moment after Sirius was seated, collecting his thoughts and trying to phrase what he wanted to say, in a way that would not disturb and panic his former students too greatly.  
  
"I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say, Sirius," Dumbledore said, "and I ask you not to interrupt until I am through." Numbly, Sirius nodded. His anticipation and dread was growing with each passing moment.  
  
"Severus has just informed me that Harry has performed wandless magic, attacking Mr. Malfoy. I do not believe," Albus continued, as he saw Sirius drop his mouth in disbelief, "that he meant to do this, or seriously injure Mr. Malfoy in any way. But that is almost beside the point. If Harry has performed wandless magic at such a young age, it could have serious repercussions on the wizarding world if it is not controlled and harnessed properly. In performing this act, Harry has fulfilled part of the prophecy. You know of what I speak." Sirius swallowed roughly a few times, and nodded. He was at a loss for words...as if there wasn't enough Harry had to worry about, now there was this...wandless magic use was not a thing to be taken lightly. And the prophecy...Sirius had known about ever since Harry was born, but he hadn't been sure if he totally believed it. Up until now...and since it did seem to be true, total and chaotic war was about to break out. Sirius realized something and gasped,  
  
"We have to tell him, Albus! We have to tell him everything. If he is to survive, he must know what is going on. He needs our help! He cannot do this alone!"  
  
Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment there was a tentative knock on the door. Albus rose swiftly to go and answer it. As he pulled the door open he saw Harry standing there, looking bewildered, apprehensive, guilty all at the same time. It was clear that Professor McGonagall had not allowed him much time to get ready before he came up. He had his Hogwarts robes on, with his pajamas still underneath. His hair, although always messy, was sticking up a bit more than usual. His eyes were alert and wary but Dumbledore could still detect some sleepiness in them. He looked very much like a boy who was dragged out of bed at a very late hour to go discuss something with his Headmaster.  
  
After a brief moment of observing Harry's appearance, Albus stepped back a little to let Harry in, saying,   
  
"Please come in, Harry. Forgive me for asking you up here at such a later hour, but there is something important we need to discuss, and I am afraid it cannot be put off." Harry gave a slight nod as he walked in and said,  
  
"Er- it's okay, Professor. I was just-" He broke off as he caught sight of his godfather, Sirius Black standing in front of him. "Sirius! When did you get here? Are you all right? Nobody saw you, did they?" Interrupting his own barrage of questions, Harry took timid, awkward, step forward towards his godfather. Sirius beat him to it. Reaching down and bestowing a tight hug on Harry, Sirius whispered in his ear,  
  
"I'm okay, don't worry. I have only been here for a day or so. I *wish* I could have told you Harry, but it just wasn't safe- but I am here now, and we have some things that we need to talk about."  
Harry nodded, pulling out of the hug. He looked up at his godfather, and gave his such a look of trust and affection that Sirius felt his heart tug. 'He trusts me,' he berated himself silently, 'and he's about to find out that he's been lied to all his life...his world is about to come crashing down upon his shoulders...'  
  
"I understand," Harry was saying, "I'm just happy to see you." Turning to the Headmaster, he added, "What was it you wanted to talk about, sir?" Harry had a look in his eyes that showed all to clear what he thought the Headmaster wanted to talk about.  
  
"Before I begin, please sit down, Harry. This may take quite a while. Now, Professor Snape has brought to my attention that you attacked Mr. Malfoy after the Great Feast today." Harry opened his mouth to explain, looking thoroughly miserable.  
  
"Sir, I swear, I don't know what happened- I didn't mean to hurt him so much. I didn't even touch, I have no idea what happened, you have to believe-" Albus held up a hand, stopping Harry's pleas.  
  
"I understand what has happened, Harry, and we are not here to discuss your punishment. I am sure you are anxious to know how you attacked Mr. Malfoy in such a manner, and that is what I want to talk to you about. Harry," Albus said, very seriously, "have you ever performed wandless magic before? Anywhere?" Harry looked startled and then answered,  
  
"No, sir- I didn't even know it was called wandless magic. This is the first time I have ever done anything like- anything like *that*". Dumbledore could tell he was telling the truth. Now, came the hard part.  
  
"Harry, what you performed was what we call wandless magic- clearly, it means you managed to do magic without your wand. Very, very few people have ever managed to do this, let alone at such a young age as you. You performing wandless magic has confirmed what we already know- Harry, you are a very powerful wizard. So powerful, that Voldemort wanted to kill you when you were just a baby. You are what wizards call an Istari." Albus looked at Harry, waiting for his reaction. Harry looked numb, and shocked. He opened and closed his mouth several times, and then looked wildly at Sirius to confirm what he had just been told. As Sirius nodded, Harry felt a roaring in his ears. He leaned back heavily into his chair. He couldn't believe it- he was an Istari? He didn't even know what that meant- and that was why Voldemort wanted to kill him as a baby? Sirius broke into his thoughts,  
  
"It's true Harry. You are one of the Istari, a wizard with power beyond belief. You *must* listen to Albus now, there is much more you need to know." Harry turned to his Headmaster, who was looking at him with sympathy.  
  
"How? How? And what is an Istari- I don't understand!" Harry whispered. He couldn't understand any of this- and why were they just telling him now?  
  
"An Istari, Harry, is a witch or wizard who is capable of almost anything. They have extreme power, and few of them are ever able to tap into all of their potential. Istari wizards are rare, so rare that there have only been four born in this century. One of them is Voldemort, and one of them is you. Voldemort knew of your extreme power before your birth, and he immediately sought out to destroy you. He was already after your father, so if he found him, he would find you. Voldemort feared you, Harry. He knew of what you would be capable of, a wizard with more power than even him. And with a family like the Potters, how could you not work for the Light Side? You were a threat, a danger to his existence. In you, Harry, Voldemort saw his end, his death. He saw it in your strength, your will, and your desire to do good. That is why he hunted down your family so many years ago, and that is why he hunts you now. You have just performed your first step into tapping your Istari powers, and you are becoming more of a threat daily."  
  
Harry sat quietly. He could not believe this. Voldemort had tried to kill him because he would be more powerful than he would? Because he would eventually kill him? And who were the other two Istari? No, this wasn't possible, no no no...  
  
"No," he said, jumping out of his seat, "no, no, no, no- it is not possible- I don't believe you! No! Sirius!" He cried out, turning to his godfather, looking to him to deny what Dumbledore had just told him, "Tell him he's wrong! Tell him it's not the truth! Tell him Sirius." Harry's voice fell to a broken whisper, "Tell him." Sirius looked up at his godson. In his pity, desperation, and resignation, Harry saw the truth, written in his eyes. Before Sirius could say anything, Harry walked to the door. Now, he wasn't just shocked. He was angry, and hurt. They had lied to him, they hadn't told him about his past, and now they dump this on him and expect him to believe and accept it!  
  
"I won't!" He said, his voice still tinged with the frenzy edge, "it's not possible. I'm not that powerful. I can't be an Istari! I can't kill Voldemort- it's not true!" Then, before Sirius or Dumbledore could stop him, he walked out the door, and ran down the stone steps. Sirius and Albus were left alone in the room. They were silent for a moment. Then, massaging his temple wearily, Sirius turned to Albus and said,  
  
"We should have known that would happen. Who wouldn't react like that? We'll have to talk to him, later, when he has calmed down." Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. Dumbledore had said there were four Istari born this century, but he had only named two. Who were the other? "Albus- who are the other two Istari? The ones besides Harry and Voldemort?"  
  
"Ah," Albus said, "I was wondering when you would ask me that. One of them is I. The other, I cannot name. I do not think even he is aware of it yet. Do not say anything, Sirius. That is a discussion for another day." Sirius nodded. He knew Albus wouldn't say anything if he didn't want to. He got up and walked to the door.  
  
"Where are you going, Sirius? You cannot roam the halls at night, someone will see you."  
  
Sirius turned around and said,   
  
"I am going to find my godson. He needs someone to talk to right now. I will transform, and I think I can manage to hide from Filch. I did so for my seven years here, didn't I?" At that, a big black dog replaced where Sirius Black once stood. The dog gave a slight nod to the Headmaster, and then padded down the stairs, searching for his godson.  
  
Albus looked around his empty office. He sighed and then headed to his chamber. Tomorrow was a day, and there were many things that would need to be dealt with. For now, the only important thing was that he got sleep, and he would deal with everything else in the morning.  
*********************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
Well! That was my longest chapter I think! I am so sorry for the delay, but such is the life of a school student! I had the worst writer's block while doing this- I couldn't think of a thing! I think part of it shows in this chapter, it seems a bit forced.  
  
So, we finally find out about the Istari! And who is the other one? You'll find out, hehehehe....  
  
More Sirius! Yay! I really love that guy, and I thought he should be there when Harry 'gets the news'. More of him next chapter, but God knows when that will be...  
  
Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! You guys keep me going! And if you haven't reviewed, do so now, please! I need motivation!  
  
*  
Giesbrecht- Here's more! Rabid is definitely the word I would use to describe my passion for the books- they have their own little place of honor in my room! Thought you'd like that password- put it in just for you!  
  
WhetherRose- my old friend! My apologies for the delay- I made this one longer to make up for it. Don't worry, there will be more stuff about Hermione being a prefect, Harry was just too distracted to say anything, but I guess it sounded like I was writing it off! Sorry! Thanks!  
  
Moonlight- it will get more creepy, I promise  
  
JaimeyKay- aw, I could never get sick of you! Devoted reviewers are my most favorite people in the world! Quidditch is back, but it won't make its appearance until later, unfortunately! Don't hate Malfoy too much, he will be around later...and that's all I'm saying...  
  
ginny5- thanks for reviewing!  
  
Amidalasky Snape- glad you enjoyed it!  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks you all! Keep reviewing, and tell me where I need help! Please!  
  
Cheers!  
Balizabeth 


	4. Understanding

*To my reviewers (if I have any who still like me) - Okay, I am REALLY sorry about the horribly long space between my updates. School is killing me, and I have a lot of work. I have also been extremely sick, and I am now on kinda an outpatient thing, and will be home for a while. I won't bore you with the details, because I know that that's not what you want to hear. I have another pathetic excuse, if you're ready for it- I had writers' block. The most horrible writers' block you can imagine. And then, all of a sudden, I got it! When I was blow-drying my hair yesterday, if you care, hahaha. Here is the product of my suffering- hope you like-or tolerate- just review!

Let Slip the Dogs of War

by Balizabeth

"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

-William Shakespeare,

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

Act III, scene i

Draco Malfoy lay in a bed in the hospital wing, alone, with his hands folded in their customary position behind his head. To the casual observer, he might have looked as if he were simply taking a short, casual break instead of recovering from a concussion. 

Which was the way he preferred it. Madam Pomfrey had long since retired for the night, for which he was eternally grateful- he couldn't bear that woman's fussing. So what if Potter had knocked him out- the only thing truly damaged was his pride. The most important thing about a Malfoy was his pride. That was one of the many things his father had drilled into his head when he was younger.

Which was why the only thing Draco was worried about at the moment was how his father would react when he found at that Draco had allowed himself to be attacked. By Potter. By Potter, without a wand. By Potter, without a wand, in front of a crowd. Draco suppressed a shiver. No, his father would not be pleased. Lucius Malfoy. His father. A man of cunning, of wit and perseverance. A man of power. A man to be respected and feared. A Death Eater and supporter of Lord Voldemort. 

God, how Draco hated him. He hated him with every part of his being, he hated him with such a passion that he was surprised it hadn't consumed him by now. 

Or maybe it had. 

His hatred went back for a long time, through endless childhood years devoid of love or warmth. Years that were bitter and strained and tearful. He had looked forward to going to Hogwarts when he was younger. It was his chance to escape, to be free of his father's clutches, at least for a year. He could make friends, maybe even some that weren't from Slytherin or friends of the Malfoy family. 

But he blew it. He blew it and he knew it and regretted it every second he strode through the Hogwarts halls. The second he got on that train, the second he saw Harry Potter, the second he opened his mouth to greet him, his father took hold. All those years of cynicism and torment came pouring out through Draco's mouth. It was then that Draco realized, as many before him had, that it was impossible to live with or be near Lucius Malfoy and not be touched by his cruelness. His father's way had been imprinted in him deep, and there was no avoiding it. He was doomed to follow the path of his father. 

He was Draco Malfoy. He was his father's son. He was pledged to the Dark ranks the moment he had been conceived. At the terrible point of realization, Draco was filled with anger, despair and hopelessness. His way had been chosen- there was no avoiding it. What could he do but follow, jerked along by his father's tight puppet strings? In that moment he admitted defeat, and continued in the way he was supposed to. Every day the thoughts of what might have been tortured him. But there was nothing he could do. He was a victim of his destiny. 

That day on the train simply added more fuel to his hatred. It burned and burned, never ceasing or flickering. He knew only three feelings for his father: the hatred, fear, yes, fear for this man who had made him what he was. He also felt a deep, grudging respect. How strange it was to respect the one you despised so! Yet he did. His father, damn him, had an air, a way about him that made people shut up and follow him. No matter what others said, his father was no fool. He was nothing short of brilliant. And for that, Draco respected him.

At the same time, Draco despised himself. Like his father, Draco was no fool and he knew when to accept the blame. For a part, he was only what he let his father make him be. If he were strong enough, he would break all ties with his family and drop this horrendous façade that was his life. But he couldn't. He remembered the one time he had stood up to his father. 

It was this summer. Lucius had returned in the dead of night, undoubtedly from a Death Eater meeting. Lucius had dragged him out of bed, and gone through all the details: those who had been tortured, those who had been recruited, what the Dark Lord's plans were. And, as always, he reminded Draco of his fate: When he was of age, he would pick up his black shroud and join the line of the damned, or so Draco liked to think of them. The horrible unfairness and desolation of this forced Draco to say something he would never had said, had he been alert and not drowsy. He looked up at his father, at those cold, malicious eyes, still gleaming from a night's worth of terror and said,

"Never, in all my life, did I pledge allegiance to HIM." Draco knew after the first word came out of his mouth, that that had been a mistake. Lucius' eyes narrowed, and his jaw jutted out. Without a word he stood up and slapped Draco across the face. Draco did not cry out. He never did. He simply looked up at his father, and this time did not try to conceal the hatred from his eyes. His father had seemed amused at this.

"You hate me, I see," he said, smiling to himself. "How interesting. It matters not, my son, whether you have pledged allegiance to him. He has called you. You are meant for great things among us, and you will join. There is no choice. There is no right or wrong. There is simply the way that has been chosen, and that is the way that you will follow. You will be called, and you- will- come. Say what you might, boy, but never deny your destiny."

Knowing the horrible truth of what he said, but defiant to the last, Draco spat out,

"I hate you, my father," he added, putting all the derision he could muster into his voice. "I hope you are killed by your "Master" and if you are not, I will do it myself." Draco trembled inwardly at his daring, but never showed it. A Malfoy never shows it. His father simply nodded, expressionless. He turned to leave, and said over his shoulder,

"Spoken like a true Malfoy. I do believe you might try." With that he left, leaving Draco with his own hatred and horror. Such, Draco realized after, was Lucius' intention.

So here Draco was, stuck in a pit he had helped to dig himself, with no conceivable way out, save for a miracle. He was determined though, if there were any conceivable way to save himself, his soul, he would cling to it. He was Draco Malfoy, and he was his father's son.

*

Whew! Well, I bet that wasn't what you were expecting! Huh, huh? Was it? Now, my goal here, which I am still not sure if I achieved, was NOT to make you love Draco Malfoy. It was not even to make you pity him. It was simply to make you understand him. And I didn't throw him in here for nothing. He has an extremely important role to play in the future. My saying that should clue you in on a little something a lot of my reviewers were asking about. I tried to express his desperation, his hopelessness, without making him seem pathetic or weak. Because he most certainly is not that. I know it was short, and I am sorry! Don't hate me, please!

While you are here, review my first time-ever HP songfic- love it. hate it? Review it!

Now, I really need reviews to tell me how this is going, and whether it is worth the wait or not. Please, review!

You can all thank WhetherRose for this update, she really motivated me to do it! My author thank-yous are going to be very short, and I apologize. I am putting off homework to do this- a sign of my undying love.

I just really, really want to thank- - - 

T.H- thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much your reviews meant to me! You and Rose are my muses, you really keep me going! I will review your story, I promise, as soon as I have time. You are too generous with your compliments, my dear! You will make me think I am good or something…I love you!

Giesbrecht- Merci beaucoup! I love having someone with the guts to tell me my chapter needs work. Thank you!

WhetherRose- aw, what can I say? You know how much I love you!

JaimeyKay- thanks, hon. Don't hate me for my long update lapse! You are awesome!

I am very sorry for all those I missed, but I really need to start my work! You will be included in the next update!

Cheers,

Balizabeth


	5. Whispers to Stars

*Wow- when my muse works, it works! I got inspired in English class today- I hope this chapter is worth the yelling I got for not studiously reading "Thanatopsis" like I was supposed to. You be the judge!

Let Slip the Dogs of War

by Balizabeth

"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

-William Shakespeare,

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

Act III, scene I

This chapter dedicated to T.H and WhetherRose, my now official muses! Thanks, guys!

*

Last chapter was about Draco, and his POV. This starts with Harry and his POV, just so there is no confusion.

*

Darkness, like black velvet. It stretched and enveloped him. It was comforting and all-knowing. In the dark he had nothing to hide, which is why he let the two tears slide noiselessly down his face. He looked up to the stars. They went out to infinity, and back again. Infinity. That seemed like a nice place to be. There would be no heroes, no enemies. There would be no magic and muggles, no power, no Dark Lords. No dead parents or burning scars or mourning families. No dead eyes of murdered classmates, staring blankly out at you in the dark. No hurt. Harry stretched his arms and looked about the owlery. The quiet was wonderful.

When he was little, he used to think that his parents were in the stars. When he asked his Uncle, he had snapped,

"You parents are nothing, boy. They are dead. And if they got what the deserved, right now they are underneath us, not above."

Too young to understand concepts of Heaven and Hell, Harry gave up the idea of celestial parents. He thought what his uncle meant was that his parents were a part of the earth, a part of every living beautiful thing. When Petunia made him weed the garden, he was with his parents. When Dudley locked him outside all night, it was okay, because he was with his parents. He liked that idea better. That way, they were always near him. But tonight, he spoke to the stars. Tonight, they seemed much closer than any flower or clod of dirt. Tonight, they would understand him. He looked up to the stars and spoke, without realizing he was talking aloud.

"Oh, Mum. Oh, Dad. What am I going to do? Why me? I can't take this; it's too much. I am no weapon; I am not some powerful thing to be used. Hagrid was right- everything happens to me. I guess I can see now why they didn't tell me. Here I am, crybaby Potter, whining because yet another miraculous thing has happened to him. Damn him. Damn him anyway, for keeping this from me." He didn't know who he was damning- he was just angry. Angry and oh, so tired. The stars gave no answer, just burned steadily, unreachable gems in the darkness. Harry heaved a great sigh, a sigh filled with more sorrow and burden than any teenager should know.

"I- I just don't understand. Who decided that I was to have power? I don't deserve it- I don't want it. I don't even know how to use it. Give it to someone who wants it, someone who deserves it. I don't want your 'gift'". He whispered fiercely to the heavens, "Take it back- I offer it up to you."

Harry slumped in defeat, realizing the absurdity of what he was demanding. Who was he to push this thing away from him? It was given to him, and his path now was as concrete as the starts twinkling above him. What could he do but follow, and hope to do good, and help others in the process? Here he gave a short, bitter laugh.

"I would almost rather be Malfoy right now. At least he enjoys being a bastard." Harry sighed again, his eyes scanning the horizon.

"I just don't know. I can try, I will try, but I just don't know if I can do it, if I can live up to what they expect me to be. But it's why you died, isn't it? So I can at least try. I love you too much not to try. And Sirius. I can't just give up- he went through thirteen years of hell for me. If I give up now, it would be like spitting in his face." It was only then that the true impact of all that Voldemort and his minions had done hit Harry. He realized the pain, the suffering. Lives were ruined, families murdered, and those who were left behind had to mourn and pick up the pieces. He didn't know why it had happened- he never wanted to understand why. He believed in absolute evil as surely as he believed in absolute good. Voldemort was evil. Draco Malfoy was evil. He didn't know why they got pleasure from pain, they just did. Voldemort was evil and rejoiced in ruin and chaos. That was just the way it was.

And now he was back. He was back and he was bent on recreating the power he held before. He must not do it. He must not. I can't let it happen. No more families torn apart, no more Muggles tortured. No more murders and Dark Marks in the night. As the rage coursed through his body, Harry offered his vow to the darkness:

"This began with me. It will end with me. I have been given this thing, this power, and I will make Voldemort pay. My life is not in his hands any more_. I will destroy Lord Voldemort."_

What Harry did not know was that there was a black dog standing behind him, listening to his words with a heavy heart.

Never before had Sirius felt so proud or so sad. In front of him was a boy (by rights, he was a man, the world had denied him his boyhood long ago) who had just taken the weight of the world onto his shoulders. Sirius knew that he would never again complain or protest it, now that he had taken the responsibility. It wasn't like Harry to shirk away from duty, even if it was forced upon him. He would bear it like he did everything else, patiently and quietly. He remembered a quote from long ago that seemed as if it was written for Harry: "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them". Harry was the recipient of all three.

For a moment, Sirius allowed himself to marvel on how much Harry was like James- James and Lily. What an incredible person he was, to have Lily's intelligence and compassion, James' loyalty and bravery, and both of their integrity. Then he pushed the thoughts aside. This was _Harry,_ this was not James and it was not Lily. Yes, he was their son, but he was Harry, too, a different person and his godson. Sirius did not owe him his loyalty, as he once thought he did, but he was loyal to him because he loved him. And he was a wonderful person deserving and needing that love.

Sirius padded across the stone floor to his godson, where he was still standing, his face bathed in starlight. He gently nudged his head under Harry's hand. It was ice-cold. Harry looked down, seemingly unsurprised at the appearance of his godfather.

"'Lo, Sirius," he said softly. "I was wondering when you would get here." Sirius decided not to mention that he had heard the boy speak to himself, and his dead parents. Sirius leaned against him for a moment, warming up the boy's thing frame with his shaggy fur. Then, he stepped back and with a small _pop_! he was in his human form. Concern and regret were etched into his face.

"Harry. Are you all right? I know you're angry and hurt, but please, believe me when I say I didn't know until today. I wish I could spare you this, but you have to understand- with this comes danger. Voldemort will find out you are an Istari, and he will stop at nothing to get you. Once he knows, he will search for you even more, before you develop your powers. He wanted you before for revenge, now he must eliminate a powerful enemy. You must take great care Harry, be careful, and go and see Dumbledore, so he can instruct you further. Harry, please, I couldn't bear it is something happened to you. Harry? Harry, please, say something." Sirius stopped his flow of words, looking anxiously into his godson's face. Could Harry understand how perilous this was? He just wanted Harry to say something, yell at him, cry to him, curse him, anything. _Anything_ but this unbearable silence… 

"I'm tired, Sirius," He finally said, looking into his godfather's eyes. "I want to go to sleep." And it was true, a great weariness had overcome him, even more so than before, and all he wanted to do was rest. Sirius nodded, and put an arm around the boy's shoulders. They were trembling and Sirius suddenly realized that Harry's teeth were clacking together, he was shivering and cold…

"Harry, you're freezing. Come on; let's get out of this place. Do you- Do you want to sleep with me tonight? I have a room near Dumbeldore's office, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. We can talk, if you want-" But Harry shook his head slightly, saying,

"No, no thank you. I appreciate it Sirius, I just think I would like to sleep in my own bed tonight, with my friends…" He looked up anxiously at his godfather, hoping he hadn't hurt his feelings. He just wanted to be in his own bed, away from the new knowledge of who he was. Sirius quickly disguised a hurt look with a smile.

"No- no, that's all right Harry. Go ahead, its probably better to be with your friends right now. Go on, go to bed, before you catch a cold." Harry nodded, running his hand up and down his arms vigorously to try to warm them up. Gods, he was cold…

"All right, well, I should go then. Y'know, classes tomorrow and everything…G'night, Sirius." Harry gave his godfather a short hug, and turned away and walked quickly to the door. Before he left, he turned around and said, "I'll talk to Professor Dumbledore tomorrow." And then he was gone, running down the stairs. Sirius looked after him a moment, and then transformed and headed back to his own chambers. It was late, and he was tired. All he had to do now was avoid Filch…Some things never change, he thought to himself wryly as he crept down the dark halls. Thank God for that…

*

Lucius Malfoy entered the dark chamber, his head bowed. As always, there was a stench of ruin and decay in the air. No doubt the one who dwelled here reveled in it. What was it about the darkness that created automatic fear?

"Lucius…you said you had news for me. What is it? I can only hope it is something important…" Lucius suppressed the shudder of disgust that he always had in the presence of Lord Voldemort, this twisted thing that was no longer human. He knew that whenever he entered this chamber, he put himself at peril, on the whims of a cunning madman. He felt positive, however, that the news he had would ensure a period of grace for quite a while.

"My Lord…I have just heard from my son that Potter has seemed to have developed some…_wandless_ abilities. You will recall, I am sure, the boy's parents. This new power can only mean one thing…Potter is an Istari my Lord. To my knowledge he has just found out. He will not have developed the power, yet, there is still time to strike before he is near invincible…" At his words, Voldemort gave a sharp hiss, whether it was out of pleasure or fear, Malfoy did not know. There was silence for several minutes. The Voldemort said softly,

"I…thank you for this information, Lucius. No doubt it will prove invaluable. I ask that you bring young…Draco, isn't it? Bring him to me, I have some things I need to discuss with him." Lucius bowed, and said,

"If my Lord wills it, it will be done." Seeing that there was nothing more, Lucius straightened up and backed out of the dark room. _Never turn your back on the Dark Lord_…a lesson that some never learned, to their eventual demise.

So, while Hogwarts slept, Lord Voldemort sat awake, turning these new events around in his head, and once again plotting the death of Harry Potter.

****************

Whew! Finally, something happens! I hope you guys aren't getting sick of all this drama, I really don't know how else to write. So, now that I have everyone's feelings established, we can move on to the actual plot…

Review, my friends, review! I can ask for no more…and here are my thanks to the lovely people that did…

T.H- aw, thank you! I am glad you liked it, that was the chapter I enjoyed writing the most. I love doing Draco, I refuse to believe that he is al bad. He will be redeemed by JKR, I am sure. Your fic is awesome, it was my pleasure to review it! Your compliments brighten my day… you wonderful muse, you!

CatalinaRose- yeah, it took me a while huh? I'm glad you don't pity Draco, you shouldn't. He is not an angel or anything, he just has issues.

Giesbrecht- bring it on! I ALWAYS need to improve my writing. Thanks for reviewing!

Whether Rose- hahaha, yes a review promise is the next best thing! Now you get two chapters…hope you enjoy! Drop AP Chem, I say. Life is not worth the hassle. Stick with what you enjoy. 

JaimeyKay- well, you should know who the other Istari is by now…I love Sirius, too!

Moonlight- many thanks for the review!

To Everyone Else- if I forgot you, I am sorry. AP classes are destroying my brain cells.

Thank you everyone, please review and tell me what you thought!

Cheers,

Balizabeth.


	6. Friendship and Letters in the Dark

Let Slip the Dogs of War

by Balizabeth

"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

-William Shakespeare,

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

Act III, scene I

*

"Sindarin" Harry whispered the password, and the Fat Lady swung obligingly forward. He looked around the Common Room as he entered…it appeared to be deserted. The fire crackled softly, casting eerie shadows that danced on the walls. Harry made his way towards the staircase, then heard a soft murmur from one of the couches, and the creaking of springs as someone turned in their sleep.

Harry cast one glance up the stairs, longing for his bed, then curiosity got the better of him, and he crept towards the couch. Who would be sleeping in the Common Room, when they could sleep in their comfortable beds? As he neared the couch, his question was answered. Lying there were Ron and Hermione. Hermione was stretched out, her head on top of Ron's lap. In her sleep she looked blissful and unconcerned. Ron's head was leaning against the headrest, and looking far less comfortable than Hermione. His right hand lay on top of Hermione's head, and in his sleep he gently stroked her hair with his fingers. Harry looked as his friends, resting there so peacefully- and, well, intimately. He was too tired at this point to consider whether Ron and Hermione would finally get together. He didn't know whether he should leave them be, or wake them so they could sleep in their beds. His mind was made up for him when Ron gave a low groan, stretched his arms, and then opened his eyes. The sight of his weary friend greeted him. He blinked, then being careful to not wake Hermione, he said,

"Harry, mate- where did you go? I heard McGonagall come in and get you- is she even allowed to come into our dormitory?- anyway, I went and got Hermione, and we came down here to wait for you…and, well, I guess we just fell asleep. So, what's going on?" Harry was stopped from replying when Hermione also woke. She sat up, her cheeks tinting a graceful pink- probably because she just woke up in Ron's lap. Gathering herself, she exclaimed,

"Oh, Harry! I was so worried! Ron and I, we didn't know where you had gone, and it was so late- Harry, you look terribly exhausted. What did Professor McGonagall want? Is there something wrong?"

Under his friends' expectant and concerned faces, Harry was tempted to make some excuse, got to bed, and explain everything later. But this past summer had taught him something. Talking-although unpleasant at the moment-would be better for all involved. And he owed them something. Out of worry for him, they had gone downstairs to wait for him to return. Friends like that were few and far between. He owed them the favor that was not given to him- he owed them the truth, as he knew it. So, with a deep breath and a resigned voice, (he couldn't help that) he told them everything, starting at the moment he had entered Dumbledore's office.

They were silent through the whole thing, save for when Hermione gave a gasp of recognition when she heard the word "Istari". When he was done, they said nothing- it was clear that they had plenty to say, but they weren't quite sure how to say it. Finally, Ron, his face rather pale, spoke up. His voice held a distinct tremor in it.

"Harry- Harry. Wow. Mate- I don't know. I mean, I can believe it, now that Dumbledore has said something. Well, we have always known there was something. Your patronus- and last year. (here Ron winced at the mention of the TriWizard Tournament, as did Harry) Vol- You -Know- Who came after you when you were just a baby. Still- that's a hell of a thing to keep from you. And it's just something else, isn't it?" Ron's voice began to rise, "Just one more reason for You- Know-Who to speed up the pace! Harry- I'm sorry. I wanted you to have a normal year this year. I mean, as normal as possible. I'm sorry. If I could take it from you I would. I'm sorry."

By this time, Harry had turned his face away from Ron, afraid that he would see the tears that threatened to fall. He realized that this thing- this power- would not affect just him. It would affect Ron, Hermione, Sirius- everyone he knew. Just look at Ron- he felt pain for him. "No one should have to feel my pain but myself" Harry whispered to himself. Then, realizing that silence could only hurt the situation, he looked at his friend, and said,

"Thank you, Ron. But, you know, you can't take it from me. It's my own. I am an Istari-" Harry realized with a start that this was the first time he had confirmed his new identity aloud- "and I have to take the power alone. But, I could use your help. You and Hermione. Please, will you help me?"

At his plea, Hermione was finally stirred into speech. This call for help from the boy who thought he was a burden, who usually dealt with his pain in silence, tore at her heart. She rushed forward, and threw her arms around him. 

"Oh, Harry, of course we will help you. Whatever you need, we will help you. First thing tommorow, I am going down to the library, and I'll look up everything about the Istari. I already have a book, you know- I'll lend it to you, it talks about everything that has to do with ancient magic, and we'll-" Hermione was interrupted from her babbling by a finger placed on her lips. She looked up, and saw Ron, grinning.

"Oy, Hermione, I bet Harry and I didn't see that coming. Library research? What's come over you, then?" Hermione allowed herself a smile, and Harry choked back a bit of laughter. Oh, it was so good to hear him laugh… Suddenly, something Harry had said struck her. Why hadn't they noticed it before? She directed her attention to Harry once more, and asked quizzically,

"Harry? Dumbledore said there was three other Istari born this century besides you. One of them is You-Know-Who. The other…well, it's likely Dumbledore, isn't it? So, who is the other one? Do you think they are at Hogwarts?" Harry shook his head.

"D'unno, Hermione. I don't think Dumbledore would tell me, anyway. But, I am supposed to go see him tomorrow- to talk about my…powers. I can ask him. I have to go anyway, I promised Sirius I would." Already he was cringing at the thought of going back to the Headmaster's office, and talking about something he would rather pretend didn't exist. The mention of his godfather's name perked his friend's interests, and Ron said excitedly,

"Siriu- Snuffles? He's here then? D'you think we could go visit him sometime?"

Harry gave a short smile, saying, "Sure, I'll ask him next time I see him- although, I don't know how long he is going to be here." Harry gave a great yawn, and staggered on his feet. Fatigue was now overcoming him in waves. He would have fallen if Ron hadn't caught his elbow. Ron pulled him. Harry leaned against Ron's side. His eyes were closed, and dimly he heard Ron say,

"Woah, mate. You alright?" 

"I think he is just tired, Ron- maybe the wandless magic has drained him. It's also- Merlin, is that the real time? Ron, it's nearly three in the morning. Come on, I'll help you carry him upstairs- we have to be ready for classes in four hours!"

Hermione helped Ron carry Harry up the stairs, and then went into her own dormitory. She gave one last look at the boy's fifth-year room as the door closed, and smiled, although her eyes held a note of sadness.

Before Harry totally gave way to sleep, he felt Ron put him in his bed, and take off his shirt and shoes. He heard Ron murmur,

"Good thing you're a light one, Harry- although that's probably more of the Dursley's than yourself. Sleep well, mate. See you in the morning." Ron pulled the comforter over his sleeping friend, and then crawled into his own bed. Whatever came, they would deal with it in the morning.

*

Draco was woken when a magnificent falcon landed on his lap. It carried a letter. He recognized it at once at the Malfoy post-bird- no owl for the Malfoys- and they certainly would not deliver letters in the morning like every other post- animal. With trembling fingers, Draco reached out for the letter. Once he had it, the falcon flew to the nightstand, and watched him with ruthless eyes. Draco had a horrible feeling that he knew what the letter said. Sure enough, it was written in his father bold script. It read,

Draco,

The Master has called you. In two day's, I will arrive at Hogwarts to take you home for a few days. Think up whatever excuse that you like to get out, just be ready when I arrive. I will put up with the delay.

Lucius Malfoy 

Once he had finished reading the letter, the falcon flew away. Of course, his father would not expect a response. He had given orders, and he would be obeyed.

Draco sighed. Were he not a Malfoy, he might have cried. He had been called. Two days…there was only one thing he could do. He climbed out of his bed, and headed down the dark halls of Hogwarts. Two days…

***

Well!

Another chapter, done. I hope you are terribly excited. I have a definite plan of what I want to happen now, it is just a matter of when I have time to type it. I have a wretchedly long Christmas list, and a very demanding family. Let's not even talk about school…

This chapter was fun for me to write- my favorite part is the whole Ron/Hermione/Harry interaction. I could just see them carrying Harry up to bed…at least I can. Can you guys? 

Expect to see Draco around more, I am building him up as we go…

I think Harry might have adjusted to this whole thing too quickly, but I don't want to dwell on it for three chapters….ack! This whole writing process is excruciating….

A million, gazillion thanks to everyone who reviewed! As for those who didn't, what is YOUR excuse?

WhetherRose- ah, persistent nature. You got one, too? Mine will destroy me eventually..I'm glad you like the drama. The star thing was incredible to write. Even I thought it was halfway decent! Have I reviewed your new chapter yet? God, I don't think I have! So sorry! I will try to do that today! Ack, I am so awful…

Moonlight- yeah…I am a horrible updater. Sorry!

T.H- I love Sirius…he is an incredible guy…I hope he gets more time in Book Five…anyway, your compliments will go to my head! I am truly flattered. Thank you muse!

Story Spindler- merci beaucoup. I am feeling much better- thanks for the review!

Thank you, all! I hope this one lived up to your hopes and dreams! *sniggers*

Cheers,

Balizabeth!


	7. A Terrible Purpose and Hope

Let Slip the Dogs of War

by Balizabeth

__

"With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

-William Shakespeare,

The Tragedy of Julius Caesar

Act III, scene i

Idiot. _Goddamn idiot_. Draco berated himself as he crept silently down the hall. What the hell was he doing? Did he want to die? Was that it? He must have a death wish if he was deliberately disobeying his father's orders, and going straight to… Ah. Here it was. Only once had Draco ever been in the Headmaster's office. It was last year…after that fool Diggory had died. Draco thought back to that meeting, hoping that the offer made still stood. The image swirled in his mind, the one thing that kept him holding on, in case all else went against him and his father threw him out…or worse. As he stared at the statue of the gargoyle, his mind went back to that night, every detail sharp with clarity in his memory.

He was sitting in front of his desk, staring defiantly at those eyes…those knowing eyes. It was the eyes that he remembered the most. How they spoke volumes and could penetrate anything. It was the eyes that Draco stared at as Dumbledore said,

"I am sure that you have heard of Mr. Diggory's death by now, Mr. Malfoy." Indeed, Draco _had_ heard about Diggory's death, as well as all the details of that night, from a primary source. His father. But the old fool of a Headmaster needn't know that, no matter how much he suspected.

"I have heard…rumors of it, sir." There. That was a safe reply. But why did he feel like it was useless to hide the truth of his father? Underneath those eyes, he could hide nothing. Dumbledore only raised an eyebrow. There was no hint of humor in his face, no warmth in his voice.

"Indeed. I suspected you might have heard these…rumors. And, while Mr. Diggory's death is a great tragedy, it was not what I called you here to talk about." Draco tried to hide his surprise underneath a cool face. _A Malfoy never shows his emotions._ What the devil was the old man playing at? The Headmaster stared at Draco for a moment before continuing. Every word was enunciated, as though they were chosen with great care.

"The world is changing, Mr. Malfoy. Surely you know this. We are on the brink of a great war- and many are bent on destruction of life. Now is a time for choices. These next few months you will have to make some of the hardest choices of your life, and you will have to live with them. You alone are responsible for the decisions that you make, Draco. Not your peers, not your father-"

At the mention of his father, Draco felt panic swell up in him. Why did he mention him? Obviously the old man was referring to the Dark Lord, but didn't he understand the power Lucius had over all that were near him? How could the man dare to bring up his father… Hastily, he spoke up,

"My father is-"

"Your _father_ is of no concern to me, Mr. Malfoy. I speak to _you_ now, not Lucius. You, Draco, and only you are in charge of your life. No excuse can hide that. You need to do what you believe is right, and forget your father. There are those that can protect you, Draco. There is never only once choice. When the time comes for you to make a decision, Draco, I ask that you think of this conversation. As long as you are a student here, you will be granted protection. However, I am not able to protect people from their ill decisions. That is a shield only you can provide for yourself. Draco, I ask you to simply make the right decision. Do you hear me?

But Draco _didn't_ hear him. At least, part of him didn't. Some part of himself told him that Dumbledore was speaking, and he heard those words, but they were far off and seemed to echo somehow. During this speech, he had jumped up as if to leave the office. He had pushed himself up using the edge of Dumbledore's desk, and that was when It had happened.

He was rushed to a place- he didn't know where he was, yet he knew he wasn't truly there. How strange- to have a part of your mind tell you that you are somewhere, yet at the same time be told that you truly weren't. 

The scene in front of him was chaos. It was a great battle, and while he noticed this, the same part of his mind that told him he wasn't really there informed him that it wasn't just a battle- it was the battle. He was witnessing the battle of Light and Dark- and Dark was winning.

Again, again, there was that voice- it told him that this was not a battle of ancient times. It was the future- some where along the timeline, this battle would be happening.

Draco tried to shut himself out of this scene, tried to disengage his mind from whatever was happening to him, but he couldn't. He was trapped. Abruptly, the scene changed, and the battle was gone. He was aware that this was another notch in the time line, still in the future. He was still on the battlefield, but there was no one living save for four people: Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and…himself.

As the vision became sharper in his mind, Draco realized that hen was mistaken. There were _not_ four living people on the battlefield. There were three. The Dark Lord stood there, and Ron was there, too. Weasley was on his knees, sobbing, as he looked at the form lying dead and bloody on the ground. Suddenly filled with inexplicable dread, Draco studied the body. It was Potter. He was facedown, but there was no mistaking that black on black hair. In his back was a knife wound that slowly leaked blood onto the muddy ground. And next to him was the one who killed him. Potter's murderer. As Draco realized who it was, he felt as though he might faint.

Standing over Potter's body, dressed all in black and with Voldemort's hand on his shoulder was Draco Malfoy. 

It was Draco Malfoy who held the knife that was covered in blood. 

It was Draco Malfoy that had murdered Harry Potter.

It was _himself._

The future-Draco raised his face up to the bystander-Draco, and the observer felt a shock run through his body. It was almost as if the other one could see him. Even more of a shock was the expression on the killer-Draco's face. It was one of such physical and emotional anguish that it was painful to see. The future-Draco continued to stare at him, then whispered,

__

"This should not have happened. I didn't want my terrible purpose."

Finally, the death-vision released him, and with a snap Draco was pushed back into the present time. He found that he was still clutching Dumbledore's desk so hard that his knuckles were white. His teeth were clenched and his breath was coming out in rapid hisses. He became aware that the Headmaster was speaking to him, saying in a concerned voice,

"Mr. Malfoy…Mr., Malfoy. Draco, can you hear me? What is wrong?" With an effort, Draco pulled his eyes up to the Headmaster's face. For some reason he didn't want to tell the old man what had happened…maybe it was because it scared him so much. His mind raced for an excuse, and he said,

"I…I'm sorry, sir. Just a pain in my leg. It's gone now, though. Must have been a cramp." He cursed himself mentally for such a weak reply, and he could tell from the look he was getting that the Headmaster didn't believe it either. As a matter of fact, it seemed that the man knew a great deal more than he was letting on.

Trying to summon up some of the Malfoy dignity, Draco twisted his face into a sneer, saying,

"I must be getting back to my Common Room now, sir. I will…consider the things you have told me." He knew there was no malice or power in that sneer or those words, as did the Headmaster. It was a façade and they both knew it. But Draco was already lost, thinking about what the hell had happened to him. He turned around and left the office. It took all his might not to break into a run.

All the way out, he felt those eyes upon his back.

Throughout the summer, that incident had taken a very prominent role in Draco's mind. He had obsessed over his Terrible Purpose (as he had taken to calling it, as he had called the implacable part of his mind that was telling him things during the vision his "truth sense") and was still no closer to understanding it. Even now, the memory of it scared him. 

So it was that that was running through Draco's mind as he stared at the stone gargoyle. He hoped to God Dumbledore's offer still held- he would do anything now to avoid his Terrible Purpose, and that involved not responding to the Dark Lord's call.

Suddenly, the gargoyle began to move. Startled, Draco moved back a pace. He saw Albus Dumbledore standing there, an odd expression on his face. It was a mixture of despair, grimness…and a bit of hope. The old man inclined his head slightly and said,

"Mr. Malfoy. I was expecting you. If you would follow me, please." So Draco followed, wondering if there was anything that the Headmaster didn't expect, and if there was, what the hell could it be? 

Draco had thought that seeing a Deatheater's son wearing hospital robes and looking as pale as a ghost standing in front of the secret entrance to the Headmaster's office in the middle of the night would constitute as unexpected, but apparently he was wrong.

As they entered the office, and sat down in their respective chairs, Draco found himself, for the first time, at a loss for words. I mean, honestly, what could he say? _"So sorry to interrupt you sir, but the Dark Lord has called me and I had this vision of me killing Harry Potter last year that I lied to you about and I wanted to see if you could grant me a safe haven away from the Dark forces?"_ Somehow, this seemed unlikely.

Thankfully, it was Dumbledore who spoke up. "I will not waste words, Mr. Malfoy. I know why you are here, and what you want to ask. The answer is, as it always was, yes."

Draco stared at Dumbledore, his mouth opening and closing. He was aware that he was doing a remarkable impression of a fish. Finally, he found his voice.

"You- you know why I am here, sir?" Dumbledore nodded, and at trace of a smile showed itself on his face for the first time.

"Yes, I did Mr. Malfoy. What kind of Headmaster would I be if I didn't know the things that occurred at my own school?" Draco knew that he wouldn't be getting any other kind of answer out of him. He realized that since the Headmaster was doing this for him, he should at least tell the man about his vision last year. He swallowed a few times, the finally spoke up.

"Last year, sir, when I was in your office…something…. something happened to me. I don't know what it was, but I saw- I saw-" What could he say now? Would he be thrown out if he told the man what he had seen himself do? Once again, he was spared.

"I know that you had a vision last year, Mr. Malfoy. If I am correct, it was a prescient vision- a vision of the future. I will not ask you what you saw, because for now that is not important. There is something I need to tell you, Draco. Something extremely important. Now that you will be here indefinitely, it is time I told you." Draco repressed the urge to jump up and shake the man, to scream _'what is it? What have you been hiding from me?'_ Before he could, Dumbledore said the words that Draco would always remember.

"Mr. Malfoy, the reason you have been called by Voldemort at such a young age is that you are an extremely powerful wizard. You are a thing beyond all things to the Dark Lord. You are an Istari."

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'Well', thought Draco, _'that is certainly interesting.'_

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All right!!!! Now THAT, my friends, is what I call a chapter. I got what I wanted to in, with a tad bit of action, however poorly written. I considered putting Harry in this chapter, but then it might have been too long, because his first meeting with Dumbledore is going to be quite involved.

Now, I know there are some things that I borrowed- if there are any Dune fans out there, you know what I am talking about. I am sorry, but they just fit so well! *Balizabeth cowers and whimpers*.

I hope this was mildly interesting, and for God's sake, if it was or wasn't tell me in a review!!!! I only got TWO for my last chapter, and that is a bit depressing. Please, tell me what you did or didn't like- because if you don't how will I keep on/stop doing it? I am begging you…

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T.H- what happened to you, muse? Have you disappeared off the face of the earth? I got this chapter out quick just for you and you are nowhere to be found! I hope you liked the all the Draco - I am really starting to like writing him. He rather reminds me of myself. In a strictly non-Slytherin way. Not that there is anything bad with Slytherin…oh, I will just stop. I would have sent you this to preview, but I need to post before I leave the state for a while, so I just couldn't wait! I'm so sorry! Much more of the trio next chapter….whenever that will be. You are so great, my dear. You may not believe it, but you really keep me going on the fic!

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Storyspindler- I am so glad you can empathize with my problems with writing. The process may kill me yet, but I can't stop- I am addicted! Thank you for reviewing- I hope this chapter came out soon enough!

As for the rest of you, just click that little button on the left and make a poor little New Englander buried up to her waist in snow happy!

Cheers,

Balizabeth

*who is still glowing after seeing Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers for the fourth time in two weeks!*


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